Tumbling, Not Falling
by allred12
Summary: Roxanne believes she has found success and happiness where she is. But a life-changing accident forces her to realize what is really important: family.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Tumbling, Not Falling 

Her hands were trembling, an uncontrollable response to nerves. This was highly unusual for Roxanne who was hardly ever nervous. Normally, Quiddich was relaxing to her. She played keeper and the constant calculation of angles and the velocity at which she had to travel to capture the ball while maintaining her balance was uncannily calming. It was the fourth game of her third season, and no longer a rookie, she felt like a professional for the first time in her career. She was over the anticipatory stage of everyone wanting to see what she could do. And she had survived the "can she do it again?" season as well. Now, she should have been comfortable. Roxanne had been drafted straight out of Hogwarts, much to the pride of her family. She played for Puddlemere United and was the youngest starter on the team. Roxanne had largely made her way to the professional team by making the right kind of friends. Her brother lovingly called her the networking queen. She was brilliant at reading people, another skill that helped her in the game.

She pulled on her regulation pants and slipped the leather knee pads and boots over top of them. Then she shrugged into the navy blue robe that had "Weasley 27"emblazoned across the back in a catching gold.

Roxanne more often than not chose to listen to her teammates rather than interact with them in the moments right before a game started. She was painfully observant, but she could easily be swept up by the petty conversations going on around her. They served to distract her, a temporary moment of relief. Roxanne could see that the starting beaters were pumped for the game, as per usual. They were haphazardly swinging their bats which the slight seeker was cautiously trying to avoid. The two brawny men who were both nearly forty and quickly approaching the end of their careers were never nervous, and if they were, they did an excellent job of covering it up. The seeker on the other hand was always anxious and fidgety. He was slight in build with pale blonde hair and pale eyes, and at only twenty three years of age, he was the second youngest on the team. His placement as starter was based solely upon his tendency towards very quick movements, which he didn't leave on the pitch. He almost always caught the snitch, preferring to use his wiriness and ability to escape from tight positions over brute strength. The chasers were three men, all in their late twenties. They were casually chatting with each other, neither nervous nor excited, just prepared to do the job that they were paid a large sum to do. One had strawberry blond hair and the other two had dark hair. Roxanne tolerated them, but it was clear to most that their hearts weren't in the game. They just played to chase the pussy and the fame, and although they did their jobs well, they didn't put all of their effort into what they were doing. Roxanne often felt that she was the only one who truly loved the game of Quiddich for all that it was. Yes, the beaters on her team appeared to be passionate for the game, but their true love was the opportunity to beat the shit out of various opponents.

Roxanne had attributed her earlier anxiety to the team's depressing odds. Puddlemere was about to play the Montrose Magpies from Scotland, and they were a team who had yet to be defeated for that particular season. Roxanne analyzed most things from a mathematical standpoint, not just Quiddich, and the negative odds were of course affecting her biological responses to increase stress, or at least she concluded thus.

The team manager entered the room. He was an older man whom Roxanne did not like. He was extremely wealthy, but only due to his father's money. He was, in Roxanne's opinion, stupid and uninvolved in everything that went on around him. He was also a sloppy drunk, and once he had made a pass at Roxanne, and he had even tried to feel her up. That moment may have been her main motivation for despising this man, but with her being the only witch on the team, she felt justified in her assessment.

After a brief announcement from the manager basically saying welcome to the fourth game of the season, blah blah blah, everyone grabbed their brooms and made their way to the pitch.

The team went out in the standard order; Roxanne was first, as the keeper usually is, then the chasers, the seeker, and the beaters. There were probably fifty thousand people in the stands, and the roar was enormous. Roxanne was comforted to know that her family was among the people in the crowd. And thanks to the family business, they were comfortably seated in some of the stadium's best box seats.

The referee for the game came to stand in the middle of the pitch. Roxanne was on the far side of the center circle, the side closest to her spot on the field. The whistle blew, and Roxanne was off, zooming back to her three rings which were her responsibility to guard.

The game was moving fast, the other team was extremely good. Their chasers managed to get two goals on Roxanne, twenty points. Other than that, Roxanne was playing excellently. She had become so absorbed in her defensive portion of the game, that she was surprised to discover that Puddlemere's chasers had scored thirty points nearly an hour in. The game was shaping up to be intellectually stimulating and physically challenging.

Suddenly, Puddlemere's chasers made an excellent goal. It was geometrically perfect, excellent passing, then a stupendous volley directly through the left most hoop. She took her hands off her broom to pump her fists in an enthusiastic cheer, ultimately the biggest mistake of her life.

Roxanne didn't see the other team's beater swing his bat, the bludger shooting towards her. Her hands were off her broom so it was too easy for the bludger to hit her right in the stomach. Roxanne started falling to the ground, faster than she though humanly possible even though she knew that she was simply accelerating at a rate of approximately nine point eight meters per second.

Roxanne hit the ground solidly, her body making a horrendous crunching sound as her leg crumpled under her weight and her ribs contorted around her knee.

She began to scream. She was in so much pain. The stands around her were as silent as she had ever heard fifty thousand plus people be. She saw the mediwizards on staff running over to her. She signaled for them not to touch her. Her entire leg was crushed, shattered. She could feel the fractures piercing through the skin. Roxanne had fallen probably twenty stories and landed on one leg. It was a miracle that she was still alive.

"Ok, Roxanne, do not move. We are going to have to take you to St. Mungo's by apparating, which is probably going to hurt a little bit", one of the mediwizards said to Roxanne. She took a deep breath and braced herself for the inevitable pain. Somewhere along the journey, she passed out.

Roxanne awoke in St. Mungo's. Her leg was bandaged tightly, and she lay in her bed comfortably, though she knew that was largely due to a very potent pain potion.

"Roxanne, honey, how are you feeling?" Angelina asked Roxanne as she leaned over her daughter's barely responsive body.

"I feel weird," Roxanne said groggily.

"I know honey, it's the potion they gave you for the pain", Angelina responded as she put a cool, wet cloth on Roxanne's forehead.

"Yeah, you took a pretty bad fall during the game, Roxie", George said as he leaned over his daughter across from his wife. "You shattered your leg, but the mediwizards are trying to fix you up right now", he finished.

"What!? They didn't fix it yet?" Roxanne asked incredulously.

"It was a really bad break, honey. They had to remove the bones, and now they are trying to regrow them, but it's not going so well", George continued. He knew his daughter well, and he knew that what she needed was brutal honesty, cold hard facts: so George delivered the worst news of all. "No matter what the outcome though, you won't be able to play professional Quiddich again."

"What?" Roxanne mustered up, attempting to push away the grogginess.

"I know it's hard to deal with, but you will be able to recover from this. Perhaps you can coach, or become a manager, or—"Angelina said.

"I don't want to do that, I want to play", Roxanne replied again. She was so confused. The one thing that had mattered in her life, the only time where she could be a geek in her mind and no one cared was no more. Her parents both gave her careful hugs as they left.

For the next few days, Roxanne waited for her leg to heal. She had suffered a few broken ribs as well as a severe concussion, but the majority of her medical issues were with her leg. Her family shuffled through her hospital room giving words of encouragement that she just chose to ignore. It was almost like they were at her wake, and she was dead as they said their final goodbyes. He whole life had literally ended with her fall it seemed: the career she had been betting on was over in a second. Her teammates visited her as well, saying words of encouragement and hoping to see her around. Her disgusting ex-manager even stopped by; even if just to give her last paycheck and present the severance package she had been waiting on. After two weeks in St. Mungo's, Roxanne was released on strict orders to not put any weight on her new leg bones.

Roxanne decided to stay at her parent's house and not her own flat while she waited to heal. She stayed on the sofa, reading books and newspapers non-stop. She was catered to by her mother who brought her food and whatever else she asked for. Roxanne was depressed and using her parents, and she knew that they knew as well.

"What the hell are you doing Roxie? Why don't you come out with me and Dom for a little bit?" Fred said when he came home to visit his parents and saw his little sister moping on the couch, wasting away.

"It's 'Dom and I' and because I don't want to", she mumbled back.

"Yeah, well whatever. I'm sick of this. You're acting like the world ended when the only thing that happened is that you can't play Quiddich again. You can do so much more than make a permanent butt spot in our mum and dad's couch", Fred hurled back at his sister. He could feel his frustration boiling.

"You know what Fred, what if dad decided to close Wheezes, then what would you do?" Roxanne retorted back.

"You know what _Roxie_, get dressed, get on you crutches; we are going to the Leaky Cauldron. I don't care whether you want to or not, I will kidnap you and take you there against your will", Fred said as he threw a pair of jeans and a jumper from the floor to his sister. They smelled clean enough.

"No, you won't", Roxanne screamed back.

"You want to bet?"

Within minutes, Roxanne was dressed and standing on her crutches. Her brother was holding her hand and the pair apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hey Fred, Roxie", Dom waved as the pair walked in to the bar. "Um, what's wrong with Rox?"

"I forced her against her will", Fred answered.

"To do what exactly," Dom asked, raising one dark colored eyebrow.

"To come here", Roxanne grumbled.

She gently maneuvered her injured appendage onto the barstool next to Dom. Fred appropriately took the seat farthest away from Roxie.

"Well, it's good to see you out and about", Dom said.

"Yeah, it's great to be here", Roxanne said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You know what, Rox; we are done with the depression thing. You took a fall, and now the rest of your family is trying to pick you back up and all you can do is sit here and complain about everything. Your life is not over. For Merlin's sake, you are the daughter of the owner of one of the largest businesses in the wizarding world, you are set for life", Fred said to his sister.

She stared at him in shock, along with Dom. No one could believe that care-about-nothing Fred was yelling at his sister, ordering her to care about _something_. The irony was tangible. Roxanne sent a scathing glare to her brother, but in her heart, she knew that he was right. Here she was, the daughter of an extremely wealthy man, and she was complaining every chance she got because she no longer had her dream career.

"Roxie, you didn't fall, because we are always here to pick you up. You took a tumble, and yeah it was rough and you have a couple of scrapes. But your whole family is here, and we would never let you fall," Fred said slightly calmer as he hugged his sister tightly.

Roxanne never cried, but in her brother's shoulder, her eyes filled with tears, but only a little bit.

Two months later, Roxanne took a step gingerly on her bad leg. There was a constant dull pain radiating from her bones, but eventually it became bearable. And a month later, she found herself striding into the Diagon Alley shop decked in a very professional looking set of robes and carrying a large box.

"Hey Fred, new materials are in, where do you want me to put them?" she asked her brother.

"Um, I want to see them first before I decide whether they can go where kids can reach them, or if they have to be behind the counter. I never know when you are doing the inventing", Fred shouted from the back room. Roxie rolled her eyes.

_Once incident during your first week and you are never forgiven_ Roxanne thought to herself. She set the new product on the counter and leaned against the cash register.

After she got the go ahead to quit the crutches, Roxanne went to work for her dad and brother. Quickly, she rose in the ranks to head of the Research and Development Division. She created every product that Weasley Wizard Wheezes sold. Finally, she found a job that could use her scientific propensity and satisfy her need to be with her family. She had tried to embrace Quiddich, but it was the family business she needed. Tumbling saved her, from herself, and she couldn't have been happier.


End file.
